The Fifth
by HunnybadgerV
Summary: Cinq, never your typical troublemaker, carried that moniker most of his life. In Stilwater, he earned a more sinister reputation, which left him in a coma for several years. Awakening amidst another turf war, his old friend convinces him to revive the Saints & retake their city. This is a series of one-shots detailing Boss Cinq's revival & building of the Saint's empire.


**Summary: **Cinq and Johnny have a plan to take back the city that they worked and bled for. It did not matter to them that they had been betrayed from within, that one of them was almost sentence to fry in the electric chair, or that the other had spent five years recovering from someone's attempt to make him extra crispy. Stilwater belonged to the Saints, and it was only a matter of time until everyone learned that little fact.

After recruiting Carlos, Johnny sends his old friend the names of two contacts he's made in the few years since Cinq has been out of commission. Ever the gentleman, the boss opts to head to Quinbecca to make the introduction of the woman with her finger on the pulse of Stilwater.

**a/n: **With Cinq's stroll through the games I found myself at a loss of where or how to start this collection of one shots. But I discovered something called "The Original List of Themes," which has 100 themes/prompts. The first one happens to be: Introduction, which inspired this. Not sure how long it will hold for him and his pieces, but I'm going to give it and a few of the 100 theme lists a go for him from time to time and see what shakes loose.

And notable thanks to _Chyrstis_ for the beta.

Just a note. You can all blame _thebutcherofstilwater _ for this. I conquer with their assessment of the striking lack of M!Boss/Shaundi out there, and while I've been toying around with the idea of creating a male boss just to pair with her I had not done much more than think about it.

**The Fifth: A Queen**

***1***

Johnny Gat told Cinq early in the day that he was going to line up some interviews, so to speak. The newly minted boss (he still wasn't sure how that coin got tossed to him, but he was going to run with it) immediately sought out Carlos Mendoza's help. The kid was stand-up in Cinq's opinion, but then he had helped the formerly comatose man out of prison when he was in a pretty bad state; the part that Cinq had never really figured out was why this kid helped him in the first place and seemingly did so with no ulterior motive.

When the two of them hit the docks after the prison break, Carlos told Cinq to lay low and stay off the radar. He could not know how Cinq would react to his friend's sentencing hearing, or that he and Johnny would opt to start the old ball rolling again. The kid just helped because he could. Part of that made Cinq grateful enough to want to flag him up, but it made another part of the long-time troublemaker want to leave him out of it entirely. The kid's grin and his excited reply to the offer pleased the taller man recruiting him, but Cinq knew Carlos was going to need a lot of guidance if this was going to work out.

Eyes moving constantly across a wealthy field of temptation, Cinq strolled across the parking lot and up the street. Every once and a while he would pull his glasses down either to take a second look at a gleaming metal beauty or offer a second look to this or that young woman strolling past him. He had to admit he loved it when they blushed. Usually a quick wink could garner him an audible clue to their enjoyment of his attention, he thought as that very action garnered a lively spell of giggles from a cute little green-eyed redhead and her blonde friend. He smiled at himself as he turned down an alley.

The young man was particular about his cars. His tastes in clothes and cars were what he would call refined and what Johnny liked to call uppity, though he wanted to think that he might have had at least a little bit of influence on his old friend who was now dressing a bit more like Cinq and less like one of the defunct Rollerz in their too baggy jeans and massive jackets. When the boss noticed the shimmer part of the way down the alley, his phone started vibrating in his pocket.

Pulling it out he punched up the text from Johnny just as another started the phone to wriggling again.

_[Gat]: Hey! Heard about this girl with connections all over town._

_[Gat]: She's willing to meet you._

_[Gat]: Do NOT fuck this up._

Cinq smiled. His pace slowed as he typed in his own response.

[Me] You know me.

_[Gat]: Yeah I do._

_[Gat]: And like I said. Don't fuck it up._

His laughter was low and playful, not only because of his friend's response, but also because of the prize he had discovered tucked up in a small private lot in the alley. After checking the address that Johnny sent him, Cinq stuffed his phone into his pocket as he walked up to a little classic Venom he had been eying. The tall, broad-shouldered man always did have a weak spot for sports cars, especially ones with engines made to run. He loved to drive fast as evidenced by the number of grand theft auto charges on his thicker-than-most rap sheet. Getting into the sleek little beauty was easy enough, but it took him longer than usual to get the engine going.

"Damn, Son," he lectured himself as he adjusted the rear view mirror. "You are out of practice." He slipped his dark sunglasses back on and shifted the car into gear with less than a thought about why this car was parked in an alley.

Rather than pulling up a map on his phone, Cinq decided to see if he remembered this part of town or not. Twenty minutes later when he pulled up in front of the address Johnny had texted him, the man was rather pleased with himself and his memory. The young woman leaning on the hood of the car, he assumed, was the one he was there to meet. The conversation she was having with a fidgety kid went on, though the attention of both was on the new arrival.

As his eyes moved over her, Cinq had no problem understanding just why she had the city wired. Even in low slung jeans and a tight baby tee she still managed to ooze this strangely confident sensuality. Likely, it did not matter if she was a guy's type. This girl looked to be one of those that if they walked up to a guy and showed an interest said man would be putty in her hands until she saw fit to stop toying with them. She was precisely the type he preferred to avoid.

_Gonna have to watch yourself around this one, pal._

***2***

Shaundi glanced over at the car, wondering if this was the guy Johnny told her about. When he did not exit the vehicle immediately, she assumed it was. The door finally opened and she got an eyeful of the guy wanting to revive the reputation of the Third Street Saints. When Johnny Gat told her he was quick on his feet and one of the smartest guys the enforcer had ever known, she had conjured a whole different image.

Tall, dark, and handsome, as cliché as the description sounded, even in her own head, was the perfect way classify the man that stepped out of the silver Venom. He had to be 6'3" if he was an inch, broad shoulders, trim waist, though judging from the way he moved he used to be thicker. She attributed the barer muscle mass to his time out of circulation. And while she didn't care for bald men, it worked on him, which she attributed to the start of a goatee roughing up his chin.

_Apparently being in a coma can't be all bad, if he can wake up and look like that_.

What made her stare at him were the eyes-his light gray eyes shone eerily from under hooded eyes. They were somehow incredibly creepy but sexy all at the same time. _He probably gets a lot of attention over those eyes_, she thought as she let her gaze trail over the rest of him. The quick assessment left her with the realization that the eyes weren't his only assets.

"Jimmy, beat it. I'll call Stewie and see if he can't hook you up," Shaundi told the little tweaker who was looking for his buddy in the wrong place yet again.

"Oh … Okay. Thanks, Shaundi," he said, fidgeting even more than normal as his bloodshot eyes remained locked on the tall black man approaching them.

Shaundi shook her head at both of them-the intimidated and the intimidator. "That all you have up your sleeve?" she asked as she straightened, crossing her arms over her chest in a dare. "Because it's going to take more than slow walk and a stern face to convince me."

He nodded and turned his attention from her to her car. The man ran his fingertips along the slope of the hood as he walked the length of the car. When he stopped near the driver's seat he turned those cool eyes back onto her.

"She's quite a beauty. Great lines," he offered, letting his eyes draw along her frame as easily as they had moved over her classic Vegas.

Shaundi set her hands on her hips. "I'm more than aware. You drive?"

"Yeah."

Her finger traced the sparse neckline of her top before her fingers slipped beneath the fabric. She had to give him credit for keeping his eyes on her face rather than her hand. Even Johnny had failed that one. Dangling the key from a little chain, she stared up at him. "But do you drive well?"

"Rest assured, Sweetie, I know how to handle mine in all sorts of arenas," he countered, looming over her in a way that left her uncertain as to whether to be intimidated or turned on.

"Prove it," she purred, inching toward him a little more.

He seemed to be studying her. Then he wrapped his hand around the challenge she was literally dangling in front of him. "Get in the car," he growled in a way that made her spine tingle.

She had to admit Johnny was right about one thing. He was pretty, and damn tempting. But Gat had also warned her about his tendencies to discount people who threw themselves at him, and Shaundi had no intention of being underestimated. If the Saints could put things back together, and she could get in on the ground floor, there would be no more scraping or running interference for the players. She would be a player on the only team left in the game, if what Johnny said played out; then she would have the control and the clout.

***3***

"Where to now?" Shaundi asked as the laughter fell out of her voice.

The last jump had been textbook perfect, if they wrote textbooks for that sort of thing, which he was fairly certain they did not. And the car handled pretty nicely when it landed on the freeway, though the mom in the station wagon the little muscle car had landed in front of had not been quite as appreciative of Cinq's skill as he was. It also seemed to impress Shaundi well enough.

"Going to take you our little hole in the ground to meet the guys."

"What about your Venom?"

"Not my car, Sweetie."

"You left a stolen car in front of my house?"

He had to hand it to her. She almost sounded scandalized at the prospect. "You really expect me to believe that dump was your place?" he asked with a knowing look. "Or that you'd meet a cat with my rep in your own neighborhood?"

She held the stoicism for almost a minute before it started to break. Her smile started slow, like she really did not want him to see it. The corners of her mouth rose slightly. When he quirked an eyebrow at her, reinforcing his disbelief, she finally let the smile form and shook her head. Cinq loved winning, at everything. It did not matter if it was cards, cars, shooting, girls, or even just getting someone to admit the truth. He loved to win.

Smiling in reply, he turned his attention back to the road. "Didn't think so. Besides I'm pretty sure no one is going to report that car stolen."

"Why's that?" she asked, her hand smoothing out the lie of the denim on her thigh.

"The two boxes of weapons in the back seat with police evidence tape sealing them," he said matter-of-factly. He'd noticed the florescent yellow tape with the little shield logos at a stop light and got curious. Slicing open one of the boxes, had confirmed his suspicions about the contents.

"What the hell?"

Cinq shrugged. "No idea. Someone's probably got the wrong sort of friends in the right sort of places," he replied. His throat went a little dry when he recalled Johnny's revelation that that very same statement could likely reply to both of them. _Fucking Troy_, part of him still couldn't believe that shit about him being the Chief of Police. Of course he was also struggling with the image of Dex as some corporate stooge, which he finally plied from Johnny after enough whiskey to float a barge.

"Either way, no prints, no problem. Though the guy that lives there might get a house call, or two, depending on who finds it first," Cinq stated rather coolly. "Might want to warn him to skip town for a few days, if he's a friend. If not, then call that little tweaker and have him tape the visit for entertainment value later."

"Are you serious?"

"What?" he asked with a glance to his right. "If the gun runners find him first, it could be fun."

Shaundi laughed, shaking her head. "You are one twisted fuck."

"You are not the first person to say so," he agreed as he pulled off the freeway.

"You would seriously watch that."

When they stopped at the light, his grip tightened on the steering wheel for a moment trying to decide just how enlightened she should be. He knew that Johnny would clue them all in eventually, but since the opportunity presented itself, Cinq decided to shatter the well-dressed illusion himself.

"Actually, I'd probably be the guy they called to do that," he said, watching her carefully.

The little flinch in her shoulder did not surprise him, except that he expected a much more obvious response.

"Johnny will tell you all this, I'm sure. But he and I are as close as we are, because of how well we worked together. And most of our work together consisted of making people wish they had not done certain things. Enforcing is how I made my bones. Just so happens that finding creative ways to make people regret for their transgressions was only one of my many skills," Cinq explained.

"He didn't tell me much more than that you were the man with the plan and the stones to make it work," Shaundi said as the light turned green.

"Yeah, well that's Gat for you. Just enough information to get you in trouble," he said with a laugh.

When he stopped the car in the open parking lot of the mission, he pulled up the parking brake on the standard and turned off the engine. Then Cinq turned toward her, bracing his hand on the back of her headrest. "Look, take this how you will, but you can walk if this isn't your gig. Johnny vouched for you, and that's all I need, but you should know, we're not fucking around here."

"And you think I am?" she hissed at him. Her dark eyes burned at him. She was not pleased by his words.

"I never said that. You chose to infer it," he clarified. "The Saints _will_ take back Stilwater one way or another. And if you have any qualms about me or about how serious this is, then you should walk now. Because walking away later will _not_ be an option."

She stared up at him. The implication and her understanding of it clear.

"Take your time. In that door, to the left, then just follow the stairs down," he said as he opened the door.

Cinq strutted toward the entrance; it was just the way he walked whenever things were calm for a moment or two. He had just pulled open the door to the mission when he heard the car door slam. He smiled and held the door open waiting for her. When Shaundi reached him, she stepped right up to him, finger poking into his chest to emphasize her point.

"I'm not some fucking little girl playing with the big boys. I am the motherfucking big time. And if you're serious about taking back this town, you'll _need _me," Shaundi growled. Her face was stern and completely serious, but it was the look in her bright eyes that convinced him.

He nodded at her with the trace of a crooked but approving smile on his face. "Don't ever poke me again, Sweetie," he replied lightly.

Shaundi drew her hand back quickly and tugged at her bottom lip with her teeth.

Cinq set his hand on the small of her back and guided her into the mission. He leaned toward her slightly as he said, "Besides I think you might just find purple suits you."

"What? You saying I don't look good in white?" she replied lightly, with a note of playfulness in her voice.

"Shit, girl. Ain't nobody saying that," Johnny answered for him. "Good to see you again, Shaundi."

"How ya been, Johnny?" she asked, hugging him.

Gat slipped one arm around her. "Fuck ton better since this motherfucker woke up. Glad you didn't piss her off."

"Oh, he tried," Shaundi revealed. "But luckily I've known you too long. Plus, I think he's out of practice."

"Fuck you guys," Cinq crooned as they trotted down the stairs.

"You're boy showed up. What's his name? Carlos?" Johnny interjected.

"Ah, good."

"You talk to my boy out at the apartments in Misty Lane yet?"

"Not yet. Figured it would be rude to keep a lady waiting."

"Bullshit. You still think with your pecker more than you should," Johnny bit back.

"Goddamn, Johnny."

Gat turned and eyed him sharply. "I told my boy you'd be out there today. He's waiting on you."

"Shaundi, can I borrow your wheels?" Cinq asked, still staring at his old friend.

"Sure thing," she agreed, tugging the keys back out of her bra and tossing them at him.

_Fucking Johnny_, he thought as he took the few stairs between him and the door two at a time. _Still pushing. _The phone danced in his pocket and he tugged it out.

_[Gat]: We ain't got time to fuck around. _

_[Gat]: Let's get on our damn feet first then I'll find you a whole fleet of pussy._

_[Gat]: Boss._

"Motherfucker," Cinq grumbled at the phone. But he knew Johnny was right. The four of them did not a gang make. He also knew that with Carlos' inexperience someone else with some time under their belt was going to be vital. He really did hate it when Johnny was right; it did not happen all that often but when it did it stung like a hardcore bitch.


End file.
